


blood moon risen

by aquilaofarkham



Category: Castlevania (Cartoon), 悪魔城ドラキュラ | Castlevania Series, 悪魔城伝説 | Castlevania lll: Dracula's Curse
Genre: Bittersweet, Childhood Memories, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Family Fluff, Fluff, Gen, Lunar Eclipse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-24
Updated: 2019-10-24
Packaged: 2021-01-02 02:13:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21153887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aquilaofarkham/pseuds/aquilaofarkham
Summary: The towering man lets out a subtle yet genuine laugh before taking the woman's hand in his claws and kissing it. She returns the gesture by standing on her toes and chastely places her lips upon her suitor's cheek as best she can. Now ready to continue with their leisurely midnight walk, they remain supposedly unaware of Adrian's presence. Then the man draped in black and red speaks."Do not be alarmed, my love, but I believe we are being watched."





	blood moon risen

**Author's Note:**

> During a night of insomnia, a young Alucard wanders throughout the castle before learning about the lunar eclipse—or the blood moon—from his mother and father.
> 
> As an adult, he experiences a similar bout of restlessness and tries to look back on his memories with fondness.

“You don’t have to be afraid—this is your home. It will never harm you.”

The castle doesn’t frighten the boy, not even as he lies in darkness as the distant sound of skittering and fluttering bat wings surround him. His bright eyes are wide open; tiny hands grip the hem of his bed quilt. Shadows slink from wall to wall. It’s been a year since Adrian was given his own bedroom. During those first months, he yearned for the warmth and presence of a loved one sleeping nearby. There was the probability of nightmares plaguing his sleepless nights. Or worse, rogue creatures waiting to snatch him out of his bed. But just as his mother so kindly reminded him, Adrian knows there is nothing to fear.

Still, something keeps the dhampir awake and alert. Bedtime is always hard for a boy of his particular nature. How does someone who belongs to both the day and the night find time for sleep? He wants to be there when the castle comes alive, when its magic and other inhuman inhabitants no longer have to hide from the sun. His mother loves the sun and it loves her in return; the hair she gave to her child shines in its rays like honeyed silk. She also loves a man who scorns the daylight yet adores his sun touched wife.

Adrian is young. There’s still enough time to find that balance so perfectly achieved by his parents. For now, his mother would rather have him asleep and ready for the next day. He closes his eyes only to wait five minutes before they open on their own. He finds little, inconsequential things to pick apart—the blanket is too hot, the room is too cold, the pillow too hard, the bed frame too creaky. Thoughts that anyone would be bothered by but seem far more monumental to a five-year-old who cannot sleep.

A small frustrated whine escapes, about as loud as a mouse’s squeak. The next thought that begins to perturb Adrian is his empty stomach. It’s a long trek down to the kitchen—it’s a long trek walking anywhere within the castle. Too many diverging paths, secret doorways that appear on their own, and things that always appear different when one looks away before turning back. But he’ll have no hope of getting anywhere if he stays in bed.

Throwing the heavy quilt off, Adrian instinctively reaches for one of his closest friends: a black and white wolf stuffed with a plush filling and sewn by hand from the softest fabrics. He has many toys including a wooden sword, some blocks with letters that taught him his alphabet, and another doll with a fuzzy face and green tunic. The wolf is Adrian’s favourite as it’s easier to hug against his chest. With his most trusted companion in hand, he opens the door with a drawn out creak and peeks outside. Candelabras line the stone walls, their individual flames standing tall and still, lighting a hall with no end in sight—only more darkness.

Adrian and his wolf follow the trail of steady fire, entering the darkness. His pace is slow as his two left feet keep tripping over his long nightgown. He carries onwards, corridor after corridor. There’s not a single menacing shadow or sudden noise that can make him retreat back underneath the security of his bed sheets.

Though perhaps there is one thing that can make Adrian stop. He rounds another corner only to hide behind it after catching a glimpse of what awaits him down the hall: two figures, a man and a woman wearing dark colours, illuminated by soft candlelight. One looms over the other like a storm cloud casting itself across a field of golden wheat. Adrian looks closer, keeping himself and the wolf doll hidden. He notices their smiles as they speak. The towering man lets out a subdued yet genuine laugh before taking the woman’s hand in his claws and kissing it. She returns the gesture by standing on her toes and chastely places her lips upon her suitor’s cheek as best she can. Now ready to continue with their leisurely midnight walk, they remain supposedly unaware of Adrian’s presence. Then the man draped in black and red speaks.

“Do not be alarmed, my love, but I believe we are being watched.”

Dracula’s tone is low, methodical, enough to turn the blood of any mortal man into ice. Yet in his statement, it becomes gentle with a light-heartedness that seems alarmingly uncharacteristic of him. It doesn’t stop Adrian from being frozen to the spot. To think he had the foolish plan of sneaking past them.

“By whom?” Asks Lisa, both of Lupu and now of a castle hold with a mind of its own.

“A certain bat who likes to fly about in the moonlight.”

“Bats are nocturnal by nature, dear. And who isn’t drawn to the moon?”

“But this one seems to prefer gallivanting off on his own well past his bedtime... against the certain wishes of his mother and father.”

There’s no point in using the corner as his hiding spot any longer. He has been caught, time to play fair. Staring down at his feet still obscured by the nightgown, Adrian emerges and bashfully scurries towards his parents. “... I can’t sleep.” Blunt, but truthful.

“Did you have a nightmare? Does being alone in your room frighten you?”

“I’m not scared, but I can’t go to sleep.” Adrian presses the wolf close to his mouth, muffling his words. Lisa kneels down and cups his flustered cheeks.

“You’re just like your father. A little night owl.”

“I’m hungry.”

Lisa looks to her husband; whose regal expression softens with understanding for his son. There are moments when the castle lord can be strict—never cruel—yet as often as possible, he allows his golden eyed dhampir to melt whatever’s left of his dead heart. “Come along. We’ll find something to fill that empty belly of yours. Then it’s straight back to bed with you. Understand, my little bat?”

“Yes. I promise.”

Dracula and Lisa exchange smiles as Adrian toddles between them. Clawed fingertips carefully stroke the top of the boy’s soft head. Like the castle, he doesn’t fear them and neither does Lisa. They never should.

Before reaching the main floor where the kitchen resides, they first make their way down an open corridor guarded by pillars, bridging one area of the castle to the next. A cool breeze passes through the glassless windows. Adrian clings to Lisa’s leg in an attempt to sap up as much warmth as she will give. There are no chandeliers here for the moon has always offered enough light. But there’s something odd about tonight; the only one to notice this is Adrian. His gaze wanders to the skies, settling on what appears to be a large bloody circle splattered upon a dark blanket of stars. He's never seen the moon so red before. It strikes him with morbid fascination, something Lisa is very familiar with.

“Do you like the moon, Adrian? I like it too.”

“Why does it look like that?”

“It’s the blood moon, or a lunar eclipse.” Answers his father.

“What’s that?”

While Adrian continues to stare in awe, Lisa tries turning scientific explanations into simple terms easily understood by a child. “Do you remember the diagram in one of your books? Of the moon, the planets, and how everything revolves around the sun?”

“Mm-hm.”

“A lunar eclipse occurs when the sun shines on one half of the world while the moon hides itself in the earth’s shadow. This can only happen when the sun, moon, and earth are all aligned.” Lisa gestures with her fingertip, drawing an invisible horizontal line, to further illustrate her brief lesson. “The reason why it looks red is because the sun cannot reach it, thus leaving it in complete darkness. When the moon passes in front of the sun, that’s called a solar eclipse. There’s far more to be discovered in your father’s astronomical tower.”

“I want to see! I want to go to papa’s tower! Can I go see now? Please?”

“Calm yourself, little bat.” Dracula interjects with another pat to Adrian’s head. “I will take you up there myself and we can watch the skies together. But not this night.”

“Okay… I’m sorry.”

Another good-natured laugh from the lord. “No need for apologies. A healthy fascination for the sciences does nothing but good for a growing mind such as yours. You are just like your mother in that regard.”

The hint of a happy expression begins to form on Adrian’s face. Even as they continue downwards, scaling the very spine of their castle, he cannot tear his eyes away from the moon. Revealing its red light every so often through an open window or crevice. In the kitchen, Lisa pours him a cup of milk, pairing it with a small jelly tart. “Only one for tonight,” she chides before Adrian has the chance to ask for a second or third.

He finishes the pastry with haste but drinks down his milk with more thought, as though his mind has gone off somewhere else. “Does the moon miss the sun?”

Lisa and Dracula turn to him with curiosity. “What do you mean by that?” They listen, waiting to hear whatever grand philosophical theory their young scholar has concocted this time. Adrian stumbles with his words at first, thinking them through carefully. They need to sound bigger, older, and more important.

“When there’s no luh-loon… the sun can still see the moon. And the moon can still see the sun. But when the moon goes into the shadow… they can’t see each other. That’s why the moon gets bloody, because, because it’s hurt and… and lonely. So, when the moon gets out of the shadow, the sun can heal it.”

All eyes are on him. Lisa raises her eyebrows in amazement; Dracula strokes his beard in a contemplative manner. “My boy, I do believe you have just created your own folklore about the moon.”

“F-folk? Lore?” Adrian gulps down the remainder of his milk, leaving a thin line above his upper lip before Lisa cleans it with a handkerchief.

“Folklore are stories that have been passed down for generations. They seek to explain what is supposedly unexplainable. And there are many stories about the blood moon,” she responds.

“Some humans believe they are a sign of the end times or a warning of oncoming change. But we vampires see it as a good omen from the universe itself. After all, it’s when our powers are at their utmost peak.”

“Are the stories true?”

Dracula gives his son a mischievous look. “Not all… but perhaps some. Now remember your promise to go back to bed.”

“Okay! I’ll follow the moon!” Adrian darts out through the kitchen doors with his wolf tucked safely in his arms.

“Not so fast!” Lisa shouts after him. Dracula simply glides close behind them. Seems all that talk about moons and suns coupled with a late-night desert has made the boy more active than ever. But he climbs into bed, letting his mother and father tuck him in. They kiss his head before wishing him pleasant dreams. Adrian makes himself comfortable, happy that his bed no longer feels too hot or too creaky and responds with a goodnight of his own.

The door closes and shadows surround him once again. His eyes quickly adjust as they observe the room; every book, every toy, even the scraps of drawings littered across his desk. Then there’s the glow of the moon. It hangs just outside his window as though it were looking through, hoping to be let inside.

“Goodnight, blood moon.”

* * *

It’s difficult to look back on certain memories and regard them as anything else but pleasant. Every time the urge strikes, a strange feeling begins to form at the bottom of Alucard’s stomach. It could be a simple case of nausea passing by and he should rummage through the old medicine cabinets for something that could soothe it. Perhaps it’s guilt. The sense that after what he did—what they both did—any desire for nostalgia is wrong.

He can’t shake it and wandering the castle halls with nothing but a thin night shawl, a fruitless attempt to keep him warm, doesn’t seem to be helping. All it does is remind him of more. More memories of those childhood sleepless nights, more of Lisa slipping him milk and pastries to make him go back to bed. More of a father that once was. Arms cross over in front of his chest, wishing there was something for them to hold other than his own body.

Alucard stops in the middle of an always familiar corridor and sits in one of its glassless windows. He teeters from side to side, never falling to the ground below. Heavy yet gentle eyes aimlessly drift upwards. There it is again, bright as ever, seeming closer than it actually is. No longer a deep morbid red, no longer crying out in pain for its sun.

“Hello, old friend.”

Out of the silence, Alucard hears footsteps. Followed by an unmistakable voice. “Is everything… alright?”

He turns to Sypha; scars healed, robes repaired, and short hair still tousled. She must not have heard his little greeting to the moon. Alucard forces a smile.

“I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? You don’t seem to need a lot of sleep.”

“I certainly need it, more than the inhuman half of me does. But I’ve always had difficulty sleeping even as a child.”

“I suppose that makes two of us.”

“Too many thoughts running through your head as well?”

“You could say that.” Sypha rests her elbows upon the windowsill while the smile on Alucard’s lips grows. Only one day into an unexpected visit that might not last for much longer and out of the castle’s main occupants, she’s made herself more at home than anyone else. It took some time to admit due to sheer awkwardness and fear of intimacy, but Alucard appreciates how much the companionship of two people can ground him. He needs it, especially when that desire for nostalgia tempts him.

“It’s so beautiful. I’ve never seen it so big before. To be honest, it scared me that night it turned red.”

“I don’t believe you get scared for a moment.”

“Well, I just couldn’t show it to either of you.”

He expected nothing less from her. “In any case, I’ve never thought there to be any fear in looking at the blood moon.”

“Why do you think so?”

“All it does is signify a change—good, or bad, or something in between.”

“Do you think something changed for good that night?”

Alucard could answer that question in a number of ways. He could give Sypha the optimistic response, which might be what she needs to hear. He could be honest and blunt, perhaps to a fault. But before he can open his mouth, another figure in the corridor makes himself known.

“Are you two talking about me?” Trevor joins them by the window, his tunic unbuttoned and untucked. Hair just as tangled as Sypha’s, if not more so.

“Not at this very moment. I presume you’re having trouble sleeping as well.” Alucard has been all things from honest to outright rude towards Trevor, yet now his voice takes on a far gentler tone. With every interaction, minor or grand, the walls they’ve built between each other are being broken down stone by stone, word by word. They can feel it, Sypha can feel it, but no one mentions it.

“The moon isn’t making it easier.” Each syllable drawls out from Trevor’s mouth as he wipes the lack of sleep from his eyes. It’s rare to see the Belmont like this, so off guard and vulnerable. Part of Alucard prefers this side of him.

“You don’t like the moon, Trevor?” Inquires Sypha.

“It’s always made me feel uneasy. I blame all the stories and cautionary tales my family taught me.” He pauses, his eyes squinting in the moonlight. “I like stars more than I like the moon.”

A phrase that neither Sypha nor Alucard thought they would ever hear from Trevor; they liken it to his mind being softened by insomnia. A comfortable silence passes between all three.

“Can I offer either of you a drink? Or something small to eat? I find it helps with restlessness.”

Sypha blinks her wide eyes while Trevor stares at Alucard. The night is still long and there’s not much else they can do, nor is there any other any place else they can go. “That would be nice.”


End file.
